


Sanguinem Bibi

by The_Readers_Muse



Category: Queen of the Damned (2002), Vampire Chronicles - All Media Types, Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Adult Content, Another: What happened after the credits rolled type of fic, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood Drunk, Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Sexual Tension, Vampire Sex, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-06 10:11:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5412902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Readers_Muse/pseuds/The_Readers_Muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Come now David, is this any way to treat a guest?" Marius thrummed, favoring the air with the aftertaste of laughter – centuries upon centuries old as faintly red-rimmed eyes watched him with clear amusement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own either the game or movie rights to Queen of the Damned, or the books they were based on, wishful thinking aside.
> 
> Authors Note #1: This is a ‘after the movie’ fic, meant to fit in directly after the credits rolled. I have never read the books that this movie was loosely based on, so the only source material that applies in the case of this fic is in regards to the movie. *This ficlet is told from David’s perspective.
> 
> Warnings: Major spoilers for the movie, adult language, sexual content, frottage, hand jobs, blood, blood drinking, drunkenness, Marius being a cheeky little shit and David being, well, David.

"Hello David."

When he had the opportunity to think back on it. Much  _much_ later when he was surrounded by far too much bare skin to entertain anything more complicated than base syllables and nonsensical groans. He realized that moment would be one he'd remember for the rest of his life. And not entirely for all the reasons one would initially expect.

Hindsight made it perfect, back lit and expertly timed as he looked up from Lestat's journal. Not quite knowing what to do with himself when the words sounded out - a rich, darkly layered hue of masculine and knowing. The same voice that had haunted his dreams, his thoughts, his every waking hour for just under two decades.

In reality – whether by accident or design – Marius nearly took out one of his side tables stalking into the room. He raised a brow, starting, but choosing to ignore the vampire's less than smooth entrance. Getting distracted when the immortal favored him with a lingering smile. An expression that translated into something surprisingly warm, far different from the subtle, daring little smirk that was all too present in his paintings. Revealing the sharp points of his fangs as his heart hiccupped in kind.

"Come now David, is this any way to treat a guest?" Marius thrummed, favoring the air with the aftertaste of laughter – centuries upon centuries old as faintly red-rimmed eyes watched him with clear amusement.

"Please," he finally uttered, gesturing to one of the arm chairs that dotted the cluttered office. Fighting the urge to either break down completely or run away screaming when the man nodded pleasantly and settled himself in the nearest chair with a careless flourish.

_Marius de Romanus was sitting in his study._

_A vampire._

_Marius._

_Jesus Christ._

The immortal's black coat teased the barest sliver of the ornate, reddish gold silk underneath. It seemed decidedly oriental in pattern, no doubt host to the same garish flare the man had exhibited in his paintings. Yet his fingers itched to unveil it all the same. Frustrated, even now, with what he was being denied as Marius smoothed pale fingers down imaginary wrinkles. Twitching the seams as it became clear that the garment came down well past his thighs – reminiscent of a long coat. His brow rose in spite of himself as he considered - not for the first time - how strange it was for a being who spent most of his life deliberately removed from curious eyes to have such bold tastes when it came to fashion.

He'd never been able to nail it down, at least not completely. It was tailor-cut perfection caught somewhere between the roaring sixties and the French Revolution. A victim of sleeping from anywhere from a few decades to a handful of centuries at a time. A stubborn sort of unwillingness to completely let go of the styles of yesteryear. Something even Lestat – as modern as he was – seemed to be no exception to.

_Ever the lordling's son._

Was it personal pride? A complacent sort of narcissism? He had to admit he'd often wondered. Or was it something deeper? A muted cry that was being sent out to the world at large. A swan-song to the last shreds of humanity left within that yearned to reconnect?

"Would you join me?" Marius purred, pointing at the seat opposite. Somehow managing to make an order sound like an offer as he hesitated. Waiting until it was clear that the vampire was not going to move before making his way to the chair opposite. Hair prickling as a small voice in the back of his head warned him not to show his back.

 _Predator to prey._ He mused, sinking stiffly into the butter-soft leather as Marius showed him his fangs. Smiling like the mere sight of him was a joy.  _Ironic how fast the tables can turn._

"I have waited for this moment a long time, David. And I think I am right in saying I am not alone in this, hmm?" Marius offered, tone luxurious as he stretched in place, splaying out across the upholstery rather than adopting the prim posture he'd expected. Marius was always so careful. So precise. Every movement merely the next step in a centuries old dance.

He frowned. Glasses sliding half an inch down his nose as he fixed the immortal with an assessing stare. Even at the concert – out in the open and fighting alongside Lestat – Marius had maintained that same demeanor. But now?

_Good heavens, unless he was gravely mistaken, he could have sworn the man was almost-_

"Apologies," he managed, barely resisting the urge to fiddle with his glasses as Marius examined the sharp of his nails – testing them against the polish of the antique armchair with a vacant, childish sort of delight. "But are you, ah-"

"Drunk?" Marius supplied helpfully, only making matters worse when he smiled again, the expression easy and loose on a face so used to careful composure and ageless severity that he nearly fell over with the shock of it.

He nodded. Not trusting himself to speak as the older man watched him through the spaces between his laced fingers. Resplendent and decidedly self-indulgent as Marius gave him a clear once over, lounging with an elegant sort of grace that even an Emperor could never hope to equal.

He resisted the urge to preen, to straighten his back or adjust his glasses when the vampire's gaze wavered, but not by much. Even now the man's hold on him was nothing short of astonishing.

"Quite thoroughly I would imagine," Marius agreed, coquettishly serious as he gifted him with a grave little nod. "And probably will be for some time."

He blinked. Unsure of what he was more caught off guard by. The honesty or the fact that such a thing was ever possible in the first place. "May I ask why?"

Marius leered at him.  _Leered._

"You may."

He adjusted his glasses, leaning forward so that his elbows were propped up against long thighs. Deciding to take the bait as Marius's eyes glinted in the evening light. The immortal had come here for a reason. Who was he not to squander the opportunity?

"I thought Vampires couldn't," he started, considering each word carefully as he resisted the urge to fidget. Struggling with the inane desire to cross his legs or maybe even space them out. Mirroring what most men often did in the subway – taking up as much space as possible as a show of dominance or threat. Eying the exposed v of the man's legs as a generous flash of reddish-gold threads sought to capture his attention.

"We can't. Or, so I thought," Marius returned, head lolling over the carved wood of the head rest before tilted back toward the cushion. "There is a sated sort of state we can achieve after a fresh kill – though the sensation is fleeting. Longer if we gorge ourselves, but this?" he added, flicking his fingers above his head as if to encompass his current state. "I don't think I have felt so alive in-"

"Ages?" he offered, lips quirking despite himself, only slightly dry as he adjusted his glasses. Resisting the urge to mirror the man's posture as an excited sort of pleasure washed over him. Surprising him with how natural it seemed. Commiserating with the supernatural. With  _Marius,_  of all people.

"Indeed," Marius gifted, a murmur of a reply that seemed directed more to himself than anything. Stretching out in the high backed chair like a feline soaking up a sunbeam. The resemblance was uncanny. "Now, I understand what Lestat meant in his ravings. When he said she tasted of liquid fire."

"You mean, Akasha?"

"So clever, David," Marius praised, tone all manner of warm, sultry and alluring as the sire chuckled throatily, neck arching – baring itself for the quickest of moments – before shielding itself again. "Such a good student."

It was completely beyond him to cover his reaction. Unable to help what he was sure was a flood of conflicting signals, hormones, scent. And to his shame, _arousal_.

"It is no small thing, killing one's own mother," Marius started, allowing him to keep what was left of his pride as knowing eyes deferred to comment on his lapse. "She was elemental - spirited – a being of raw power and instinct. And thus, like the gods of legend, she too was doomed to fall. For those that do not change with the world will live only longer enough to see themselves consumed by it. It was a classic blunder. Remarkably human, in fact. Don't you agree?"

He hesitated, drawing in a breath to answer, only to hold it. Watching Marius watch him as he considered how their game of cat and mouse seemed to be evolving with the vampire's clear consent. Marius was seeking to even the playing field, if only in spirit. But why? And for what purpose?

"I believe that it likely had a steep cost," he finally allowed, swallowing hard as a subtle change stole across the man's features. An emotional tell perhaps? "Other than fairy tales and the tripe they show at the cinema, all true victories do. And I doubt Akasha was one to die easily."

"No," Marius agreed, expression diamond-cut with a tone the threatened to darken all the further. "She was not. She would not stop. She would not cull her baser nature to live in the shadows with her children. She wished to rule, as she once had. To drink this world dry only to repeat the cycle into eternity. Merely for the pleasure of it. She found no joy in life, other than taking it. So, we did as we must. We paid the price for our peace. It was our heritage we protected – mortals and all they hold dear."

 _The lesser of two evils._  He mused. Considering the politics and the moral quandaries such a thing presented. For it was a peace – a victory – of a sort. With Akasha defeated, humanity would be free to carry on into the next millennium, blissfully unaware of its near miss. And the vampires, in kind, could continue to stalk the shadows. Slaking their thirst where they saw fit. Numbers too small to pose any great risk to the species. Both continuing to co-exist – one aware, the other not – two halves of the same history melding seamless together. Quietly and sharp all at once.

He shook his head, eyes flickering up to scan the books shelves that spanned across the room. Histories beyond history. He blinked as a passage flittered through the lens of his mind's eye.  _The noblest battles are always fought in vain._  And as if the creature could sense his thoughts, Marius inclined his head. Keeping the watchful silence.

"I am sorry," he offered, automatic but no less sincere as discomfort peaked. Wishing to understand Marius's sudden trip into the somber as his fingers itched to write down every detail.

They knew so little about the Ancients. Marius, they knew of only because he had presented them with the opportunity. Likely enjoying their mad frothing whenever another of his paintings were uncovered. Speaking coyly through the centuries through colors and aging canvas. But of the others? Some were only whispers. A mere scrap of a name idly mentioned in a stray journal entry or parsed second hand from a questionable source.  _Armand. Pandora. Louis. Lestat._  Others, he were sure, were even less than that.

_How many had died tonight?_

_And how much history had been lost with them?_

"Yes, I am sure you are," Marius replied, seeming to shake off the sudden surge of moroseness in between heartbeats as he gazed at a small hand carved figure of the Grecian Minotaur he'd bought on a whim the last time he'd been overseas. Balancing it neatly in his palm as the eyes of the horned beast seemed to flare – wreathed with the same shadows that seemed to follow Marius like a shroud.

"I believe there were others like her once. Beings that gave rise to myth and legend. I have seen too much of this world to discount such things merely because I was not there to witness them. The natural magic of the world has, in majority, culled itself, but-"

He nearly jumped right out of his skin when the kettle he'd put on before Jessie and Lestat's arrival  _piped_  - whistling shrilly from the small kitchenette _. Good lord, he'd nearly forgotten!_  He jerked to his feet - pathetically grateful for the space to clear his mind as Marius chuckled in clear amusement.

"Tea?" He offered, scampering off to the safety of the door jamb as the vampire tilted his head, eyes following lazily. "Or perhaps something stronger? I might have few fingers of a decent brandy lying around."

He knew everything was about to go tit up about three seconds before that cocky, sly little smile slithered back across the immortal's face. Laughing without sound as the glint of his fangs flirted with the low light. Eyes wide – glinting high in their predatory mockery.

"Why David, you surprise me," Marius purred, stretching luxuriously as long fingers traced whorls into the ruined finish of his armrest. "Are you offering me a drink?"

His jaw slackened. Only just realizing the implications of his offer – given the present company – as a thrilling and completely  _terrifying_ rush of adrenaline shuddered through him. Something that was only made worse with Marius cocked his head. Eyes closing, as if in the grips of the deepest pleasure.  _Inhaling._  Sampling his scent with a damn near indecent pull before letting go of a rumbling growl. Watching him through heavy lids as all the words and intentions left unsaid flavored the air like a promise.

And oh-

_Oh, damn._


	2. Chapter 2

He congratulated himself on only having to compensate for some minor shaking in his extremities as he fiddled with the kettle. Glasses fogging up as he took great shuddering breaths. Desperately trying to calm his frazzled nerves but only ending up making it worse when he remembered that Marius could likely hear every hitch.

_Damnable creature!_

He fumbled with the lid on the bottle of brandy and took a long drink right then and there. Foregoing a glass as the sweet burn of it did remarkably little to calm him.  _Pity._  He set the bottle down sharper than he'd intended, breathing out of his nose as he swallowed reflexively. There were only a few avenues for how the rest of the evening could progress, and in all honestly, he wasn't sure how it felt about  _any_  of them.

His free hand curled into a tight fist as he watched, noting how the skin bleached itself bloodless-white.  _What were Marius's intentions coming here? What did he want from him? Could he really want-_

"Why David, how delightfully forward of you," Marius started when he emerged from the kitchenette. Balancing a large cup of tea liberally spiked with the last of the Brandy. Clearly still in the mood to tease as he watched him hungrily. Making no effort to mask where his eyes wandered. "Though, perhaps later? The night is still young, yes?"

He'd put far too much Brandy in the tea, but he sipped it regardless. Resisting the urge to make a face as the beverage cooled to a sulking lukewarm and stayed there. Remaining silent as the vampire shifted, fangs flirting with the plush of his lower lip – coy and all too knowing. Apparently content not to embarrass him any further on the subject – at least not with words at any rate.

"It is much like being a newborn again," Marius replied into complete silence. Looking over at the window as the sound of laughter floated in through the screen. "A fledgling of sorts. Edgy and uncertain of one's own strength. Such a curious sensation. I had quite forgotten."

He paused in the act of braving another sip. Something only just occurring to him.

"But Lestat and Jessie, they were just here and they weren't-"

"Very good," Marius praised again, blinking slow and indulgent as the tip of his tongue darted out, tracing the curve of a fang as if in remembrance of the taste. "It is true. Though, while Jessie was in no positon to join the cause, Lestat…well, he is still young for our kind and siring another is no easy task. Whatever affect Akasha's blood had upon him was diminished by both the confrontation and Jesse's making."

The shard of hurt that rose up in response to Jesse's name was fleeting. Like the low throb of a healing wound. Quickly outpaced by that of curiosity as he leaned forward in his seat. Drinking in every word. Thinking suddenly how Lestat must have felt that moment, waking up in Marius's stronghold. Riding high on old world fears as his soon to be sire stalked him from the shadows. Salivating at the chance to finish what he'd started as Lestat stumbled from his bed uncertain and alone.

"But it is to her credit, I believe. Her family is known to us and with such ancient blood so fresh in Lestat, she is likely quite powerful for a fledgling."

"Fascinating," he replied, keen and forgetting himself as he got to his feet, hurrying to his desk to pull out a sheath of papers. "There is a manuscript that was found roughly in the last century, no one is quite sure how, a clerical error of some sort, but it discusses the difference between the blood of a sire and the blood of the everyday. Perhaps you can shed some light on- _urick!_ "

He was caught off guard when Marius snatched him in mid-stride. Pulling him down – close – right into the vampire's lap as the world hitched on its axis and came to a standstill. He froze, transcription slipping from nerveless fingers. Fluttering down like paper rain as his arse settled right on top of-  _oh_.

"You're shaking. David. Do I frighten you?" Marius purred, breath ghosting across the delicate shell of his ear as he shivered in place. Caught and still as the vampire's thumbs stroked his sides, soothing him, like one might a frightened horse as clever thumbs found the curve of his hips and sought home in the dips.

It was wholly too much to process. Even more so when he realized the vampire was hard underneath him. Firming into the cease between his cheeks as the man's hips ground up – once, twice, then again - light but with clear intent. Prick stirring with interest as he tried to remember how to breathe. Feeling the strange, animal urge to pant as Marius's breath teased across the vulnerable pale of his neck.

"No," he managed, shaky and real as he startled himself with his own boldness. Stiff-backed against the creature's hold as he felt Marius's smile grow against his skin. "No, I must confess you  _terrify_  me."

In the end he took comfort in the familiar. Remaining where he was, while his mind retreated back to more stable ground. Knowledge has always been his weapon of choice and this case proved no exception.

"I am of the opinion that every historian is something of a coward," he confessed, letting one word follow the other, swallowing hard. Resisting the urge not to lean back into it when the sharp of the vampire's nails began raking gently down the curve of his spine. Inspiring shivers that threatened to turn into full out pleasure as the man managed to find his most sensitive spots and exploit them mercilessly.

"Or at least the ones who are truly dedicated to the art. We understand the cost. Cause and effect. We see the numbers. The battles and rebellions. The losses that ripple through time only to repeat the same mistakes in a hundred different ways. Perhaps you become jaded to it, but the fear remains," he offered, shaking his head. "What we do to each other? It's a wonder we haven't killed our potential for good."

"But not your Jessie, hmm?" Marius posed, pressing a closed mouth kiss into the skin just below his collar – flirting with a tone that hinged on contrite when he fell for the bait without thought.

"She is not mine. She was never-" he swallowed the rest, embarrassed and angry at himself. It was a lie, of course, and yet not at the same time. Their time together had been passionate but brief. A mistake. But not a harsh one. His only regret was not seeing that sooner.

"Besides," he continued, clearing his throat, the hard line of his spine softening a fraction as Marius rumbled, deep in his chest. The vibrations strangely soothing as the vampire's hands traced the length of his forearms. Back and forth in through the fabric of his shirt as nimble fingers slowly unbuttoned the cuffs. "Jessie was- _is_  a dreamer, there is a difference. She wanted to be part of history – to help make it, shape it - not simply understand and record."

It was a strange thing to admit to, but he could actually sense the amusement that issued long before the man owned up to it. Relaxing another fraction as Marius stroked the inside of his wrist.

"You fascinate me, David," Marius answered, voice syrupy slow as something in the pit of his stomach warmed imperceptibly. "So contradictory. I am sure it makes you feel better to imagine yourself that way. Defining your actions in safe, neat little categories. But can you not see the folly it in? A coward would not have followed a wayward lamb into the den of wolves."

"She was my charge, my responsibility," he protested, the moment at the concert flashing damningly in his mind's eye. Seeing Marius for the first time amidst the jostling crowds – still and predatorily beautiful. He remembered the feelings that had spiked high – dangerously close to breathless wonderment – when he watched the vampire fight. Every movement seamless, effortless, a dance in contrast to the baser forms of the vampires he was fighting.

"A coward runs from responsibly," Marius chided, lower lip dragging obscenely against his skin as the sharp of his fangs grazed the crux of his neck – abusing the skin just below his hairline as he sucked in a shattered breath. "You conquered you fears and dove headlong into the den regardless. You give yourself so little credit, David. I have known cowards. Tasted the salt of them on my tongue. And you are not one."

He nearly strangled himself on a hiccup when Marius' hand suddenly fell on the flat of his thigh. Skimming the outline of his prick – embarrassingly hard and throbbing hotly against the seam of his trousers – before it was joined by the other. Petting idly as his stomach fluttered.

"Marius, I-"

"Yet, you cannot deny that everyone uses history for their own purposes? Yes?" Marius remarked lightly, as if by way of answer. Stroking him firmly now through, cupping him through his slacks as the vampire's tone wreathed itself in a richness he could practically taste on the answer. Like twinned arousals poised to take flight.

"You were an art student first were you not? You knew nothing of the Talamascans or vampires but you followed my ghost through close to five centuries – convinced there was something everyone else was not seeing – before the order approached you. So spirited and young, confident in a way that impressed almost everyone you came across. And you used that pull accordingly."

He swallowed hard. Hotly mortified when his hips jerked, butting reflexively into the curl of the man's hand as Marius cupped him through his trousers.  _Holy hell!_ He bit down on the sounds that threatened to best his resolve as his thoughts broke apart – whirling and condensing. Dangerously close to hysterical as the vampire nosed against him, breathing him in - skin to skin and greedy.

Call him short-sighted but this wasn't how he'd expected their first formal meeting to go. In fact, if he was being honest, the idea that this was even happening at all was a bit hard to believe. Leaving him stuck in a strange place where he wasn't sure if he should be giving in to nerves or taking notes – for posterity's sake if nothing else.

_He was in Marius's lap for Christ sakes!_

Part of him was all too eager to blame it on the vampire's condition. Drinking the Queen's blood had clearly affected his faculties. That much was clear. But the more rational part of him was having none of it. After all, it would be far too easy to explain the man's actions away as the overly affectionate attentions of a drunkard. But that was the rub. Because Marius wasn't completely tied in. He was affected, to be sure, but only in the sense of being caught up in that endearing stage of inebriation where the imbiber was well aware of their drunken state, but affected enough to still be free with word and deed. And thus a measure of truth that rang free and clear because of it.

_And lord if that wasn't an utterly terrifying thought to consider…_


	3. Chapter 3

"You are exquisite, David," Marius murmured, lips brushing across his skin, tangling their hands together as the firm of the man's prick made itself known against the swell of his ass. Passionately silent in its desires as hips started moving without his consent. Chasing the shadow-play of the vampire's hand as Marius stroked him through his pants.

"Your scent is…singular, alluring," the vampire continued as the delicate rasp of his tongue teased across the short hairs of his neck. Caught in a strange sort of feedback loop as pleasure shivered through him. Wondering, despite the part of him that told him he was wicked for even entertaining it, how it would feel when the vampire-

"Is-is that something you say to all your lovers?" he managed, forcing himself out his pleasure-hazed stupor as Marius chuckled into the arc of his neck. Worrying the skin with teeth and tongue as he let go of something dangerously close to a whimper.

"If it was, would you be offended?" Marius hummed, a mixture of curiosity and amusement. Like he was actually interested in his answer as the vampire pulled down his zipper with a slow luxurious rasp.

"Depends," he answered, taking the man's silence for permission to continue as he summoned what was left of his self-control and forced the words out. Feeling the need to say them, if only to have a record that he'd voiced them out loud, as Marius flicked the button of his trousers open and ran the curl of his finger over the straining damp cotton of his briefs. Coaxing a quiet moan as Marius nuzzled into his neck, purring loudly.

"Depends on your - _oh good lord_ – ah, intentions."

The sound the man made in the back of his throat was wanton and wondering. More felt than heard as adventurous hands found their way under his shirt to scratch lightly along the heaving cage of his ribs. Struggling between contradictory urges as part of him instinctively tried to stop breathing.

"And if I told you I wasn't looking for simply a lover but rather an equal - a partner?" Marius inquired, pressing a cool kiss across the very edge of his jugular. Not a threat, but rather a promise - hedonistic and pleasure-wrecked as it left the unanswered question laced into the saliva left on his skin.

"Is there a difference?" he managed, raking the blunt of his nails down the vampire's thigh when Marius widened his stance. Pressing his own pleasure against him again, as if he might somehow forget it was there. Reminding him not just how out of his depth he was, but how unwilling he was to protest at the same time.

"I believe you know there is," Marius returned, rolling his hips upwards again with a lazy inhale. "We are both old enough to have traversed that particular hurdle. There is no question, I have had my dalliances, sired children. Lestat and Pandora are simply the more recent. But there one thing every living thing craves, even those of my kind."

"And what's that?" he gritted, playing along as his brain scrambled to slog its way out of the growing haze of arousal and want. Sinking another precious millimetre into the vampires hold as Marius stroked him slowly. Keeping the same maddeningly slow pace

"Stability, of course," Marius purred. "Isn't that what you've been looking for yourself, David? All these years of searching. Of never settling down. Taking a mate? For that elusive piece of permanence we all crave, and know instinctively when we've found it?"

He laughed, it was only a strangled puff of air but he couldn't help it. Coming apart slowly as the seams of his underwear finally gave way after a generous, violent tug and the vampire gripped him bare. Fisting his cock as the sudden stimulation had him squirming. Making Marius growl and double his efforts as his hips threatened to buck into nothingness.

_Stability?_

_Marius couldn't be serious._

_And the implication of-_

_No._

_It made no sense. The man couldn't possibility want-_

_Not him._

_He could have anyone._

_Anything._

_Why-_

"Oh David, are you truly so modest? So unaware of your worth?" Marius thrummed, lips dragging exaggerated back and forth across the first knob of his spine. Making him twitch – overstimulated and craving more as the vampire mouthed the skin with delicate pressure. Brushing his thumb around the head of his cock before smearing the fluid that had started leaking from the tip. Turning the moment into something crass, baser, and undeniably alluring as he chanced a look down at himself and prompted choked on a gasp.

He'd never seen himself like this before. So desperate and open. Cock straining – red, purpling and slick around the head - catching the glint in the overhead lights as Marius held him fast in his lap. Sweat chilling across his temples in the cross-breeze and shirt rucked up around his armpits as the warmth of him soaked into the fine material of the man's waist coat.

"I know my value," he stuttered, hissing when the lightest point of the vampire's nail traced deliberately around his shaft. Riding the slow hitch of hips that mirrored the hand wrapped around him. Completely beyond shame as Marius coaxed him closer and closer to the precipice. "I simply do not understand how I am of any interest to you."

He colored, feeling almost dizzy with it when Marius threw back his head and laughed.

"I have been wooing you for decades, David. Have you not noticed?" Marius hummed, growling soundlessly as the vibrations stole like pleasure across his skin. "I have taken no childe, no one to slake my lust and warm my bed since the moment I caught your scent in the catacombs of Old Italy."

"One would think you might have grown out of that," he gurgled, voice hitching – hiccupping through a groan as another blurt of fluid escaped from his prick and started dribbling down the side like opaque pearls. "As you said, I think we are both a little old for-

"-a 'little obsession?'" Marius coined, sounding so utterly pleased with himself when he inadvertently caught him soundly in the falsehood. Voice a baseline velvet purr as he repeated the same words he'd spoken to Jessie that day in office.

"I will have you," Marius whispered huskily. "You are mine, you know that now David, do you not? You have _always_ been mine. And I will have you in every way you will give me. Perhaps more. By your own omission I already own your heart. Did you truly think your body would be any less enticing to me?"

He lost himself then, crying out, trying to muffle a series of long pitching keens as the vampire milked him, distracting him thoroughly when his free hand wormed down the back of his slacks and traced down his cleft. Ringing around his entrance before one finger pressed _just so_ against the fluttering muscle. Gifting him with just enough pressure to bear down as the phantom act sent him soaring past the point of no return.

"After all," Marius remarked, smirking high into his skin like a victory. Like all this had been a long time coming and he was content to sit back and enjoy the moment as the bulge of the man's prick pressed like a promise against his naked cheeks. "The ones worth the chase are always the ones best caught. Wouldn't you agree?"

And call him a glutton for punishment, but it was something Jessie had repeated before she'd left – vibrant eyes dark and newly fathomless. Something that Lestat himself had written in his journal that rose to the forefront when Marius' fangs finally broke skin. Sinking deep into the pale of his throat the same moment his orgasm tossed him clear into the static-white of a brand new reality. Growling harshly, pleasure-wrecked by the first pull as he slumped back in the vampire's hold and decided all at once – in a fit of uncharacteristic recklessness – to own every second of it.

_Better dead than alone._

And strangely enough, even now - caught fast in Marius's arms - holding onto consciousness by a thread as the vampire drank his fill. Prick twitching valiantly as his release seeped from the tip in sluggish trickles, the thought was oddly comforting.

**Author's Note:**

> Reference: Like my previous works in this fandom, the title is once again a Latin translation. ‘Sanguinem Bibi’ is the Latin word for ‘blood drunk’.


End file.
